


Snow Bunnies

by jessahmewren



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Challenge Response, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, MSR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 04:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12880314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessahmewren/pseuds/jessahmewren
Summary: Mulder and Scully go skiing in Colorado.  Written for TheXMasFilesChallenge on Tumblr. Day 1: Hot Chocolate.





	Snow Bunnies

-0-0-0-

Scully stood atop the Bunny Slope, willing away the slight tremble in her hands that seemed to radiate all the way down the titanium poles and into the fresh dusting of snow.  She rocked back and forth on the skis, the slightest of motions, half hoping that the innocuous action would propel her down the hill without her willfully deciding to go there herself.  

At the bottom of gentle slope, near the foot of a vastly more complicated trail, Mulder completed his run with a flourishing side-stutter, sending a cascade of white powder arcing into the winter air.  His cheeks were ruddy, and as he took off his mirrored goggles, the cerulean blue of the Colorado sky only served to make his hazel eyes more striking.

Mulder looked up the gentle slope where Scully still stood at the top.  It wasn’t steep by any means, but Scully was a novice skier and quite apprehensive about taking off down the little knoll on her own, never mind the short distance.  

He couldn’t get enough of looking at her.  In her beanie and tight ponytail, ski pants and boots, he couldn’t remember when she’d looked more beautiful.

Too bad that, at the moment, she was absolutely miserable.

“Can we go back to the lodge now?” Her voice rolled easily down the little hill to where he stood looking up at her, and he couldn’t suppress a grin. “Yes,” he called back, “Just as soon as you make your run.”  She said nothing, but he could see her dissatisfied expression from where he stood. He waved widely in her direction. “I’m right here Scully,” he called up to her.  “It’ll be fine.”

_Fine,_ she thought flatly.  How does he know?  Doesn’t he know the number of ski-related injuries reported each year?She huffed.  “You have an unfair advantage of me you know.  You grew up in Massachusetts Mulder you probably skied every winter!” She could see his grin from where she still stood atop the slope.  He’s _enjoying himself_ , she thought with some ire.  Scully blew out a quick breath and closed her eyes.  

When she finally opened her them, however, she found the bottom of the hill curiously empty.  Her heart did a little flip. “Mulder?”  No reply.  Her voice echoed across the hillside, and she looked further down the slope, searching for any sign of him.  There was only the snow glittering against the pristine landscape.  A single hawk flew across the vista, cutting through the line of evergreens that pushed into the clear sky.  “Mulder!”

“Hey.”  Mulder glided up slowly, stopping to her right with considerably less fanfare than how he’d ended his earlier run.  He’d gone around and up the little hill on the other side and now stood beside Scully, smiling at her.  “You ready to go?”  

She looked at him with faux annoyance. His demeanor was so lighthearted, so easy, that if he hadn’t been so damn sexy, she would’ve elbowed him off the edge and down that little hill just for being such a pain-in-the-ass show off.

But Scully couldn’t hide her relief as visions of warm drinks in front of a roaring fire became too tantalizing to resist.  “I thought you’d never ask,” she said, and turned to leave, but found herself halted.  

“Uh uh.”  

She blinked at him, not understanding, then followed his arm down to the mittened hand he now held out to her. She looked into his eyes.  “Partners, Scully.”  Mulder smiled, gesturing down the slope.  “We go together.”  

Scully quirked her mouth.  “I could go if I really wanted to,” she said defensively.  

Mulder laughed.  “Oh, I know you could.  You could kick this slope’s  _ass_  if you wanted to.” His eyes sparkled.  “Mine too.”  

Scully giggled and took his hand. Even through the thick glove, the contact generated the same heat that every touch from him produced, and she could feel the warmth travel up her arm, bloom across her chest, coloring her cheeks. “Probably,” she said smoothly.  

“So,” he said as he gave a gentle tug on her arm, “let’s see what you got.”  With one quick motion and a yelp of surprise from Scully, Mulder pulled them both down the hill.

It was smooth going at first, and the cold wind against her face seemed to imbue her with fresh energy.  She inhaled the crisp, fragrant air with relish as they made their way down the trail.

Suddenly, Mulder’s ski got tangled with hers and he began to tumble, slowly at first, then picking up speed in a blur of blue jacket and boots.  It all happened so fast; Scully could do little but stare in horror as Mulder plummeted down the hill.

She skied to his side, picking up as much speed as she dared until she finally stood over him, visibly concerned.

To her relief, he was already sitting up, looking quite flustered.  He was brushing snow from his chestnut hair and out from under his goggles.  He shook snow from under his thick jacket and scooped handfuls of it from around his neck.  During his ride down the hill, snow had worked its way into every possible nook and cranny of his winter attire and he was thoroughly soaked.  His exposed skin was an angry red, and he clutched himself against the cold as he looked up at Scully with no small measure of misery.  “Can we go back to the lodge now?”  

Scully couldn’t help but smile.  

-0-0-0-

It was already late, so they decided to forgo the lodge.  Mulder and Scully made their way along the twisty mountain roads to the little cabin they’d rented.  It was nestled in a stand of evergreens at the foot of a large mountain, and with the snow heavy on its tin top, and the small stack of firewood piled by the door, it looked every bit as rustic and homey as it had felt to them for the few days they’d been there.  As their four-wheel drive rumbled its way up the last few yards to the side of the cabin, the headlights glinted off the snow-covered roof, sparking a firestorm of twinkling brilliance from the tiny facets of ice.

They clumsied their way in, dragging ski equipment and other personal effects (along with a good measure of snow) behind them.  It wasn’t until Scully was halfway across the floor when she noticed the steady drips of water and sludge tracking behind Mulder.  

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she said as she gently shepherded him back to the door.  “You’re dripping everywhere.  Lemme get you some clothes and I’ll put on some hot chocolate.”  

She returned quickly, fresh clothes in hand, to find Mulder still standing on the rug.  He looked sodden and rather sad, standing there with all that dripping gear, and she found it entirely adorable.

“Here,” she said gently as she took off his mittens.  “Gosh, babe you’re soaked through.”  She ran a concerned hand through his spiked hair, letting her fingers brush behind his ear and linger there.

Mulder secretly smiled at the little pet name, one that she used only rarely, and looked sheepishly at her.  “I suppose it’s punishment enough for making you go out with me today.”  

She unzipped the outer jacket and now worked on the inner one.  He helped, but his numb fingers did a clumsy job, and he finally relented to Dr. Scully and her more able ministrations.  “You could say that,” she said wryly, and gave him a pointed glance. “I don’t think skiing’s my thing, Mulder.”  

He held her upper arms, stilling her busy hands.  “You’re better than you think,” he said seriously, and gave her a disarming smile. She melted into his touch, the effect of it already palpable.  “Yeah?” His hands on her arms felt good, solid, and she needed more of them.  Slowly, she moved her hands up his chest, her eyes hooded, and snaked a hand around to cup the back of his neck and tease the ends of his short hair.  She put her mouth to his ear.  “Your shirt’s wet,” she said huskily.  “Better get you changed.”

He smiled.  “No argument here,” he said, his voice low.  Mulder leaned into her, intoxicated by the proximity, her warm hand on the back of his neck.  Their faces were inches a part, breathing the same air, and Mulder became enraptured by the rise and fall of Scully’s chest, her perfect breasts, visible by memory if not by sight from beneath the heavy jacket.  His heart thundered in his chest.  

Her hands made their way to his waist, to pull at the Henley where it remained tucked into his ski pants. She let her hands brush against his prominent hard-on, relishing the little gasp that slight contact produced, and made short work of discarding the offending material and tossing it onto the couch.

She was fire, Mulder found himself thinking, her fingers the flame as they burned an insufferably slow trail up his chest, around to his shoulders, down the length of his arms.  They were locked in a dance, the two of them. Standing there on the rug, they mirrored each other’s movements in an elemental effort to match the fire or be consumed by it.  His hands cupped her graceful neck, and he trailed his fingers down the ivory column but there was too much, too much between them and that had to be corrected.

Mulder fumbled with the zipper on her thick jacket, struggling with the complex fastening.  When he couldn’t quite finish the job, Scully arched her back and pulled it over her head.  She tossed it behind her, her eyes feral, and standing there, full of desire, Mulder thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Eagerly, he claimed her mouth.  It was molten as it moved against his, and he longed to feel more of its heat wherever she desired to impart it.  He reached up, freeing her hair, and buried his hands in the auburn tresses.  Mulder swam in the scent of her, the heat of her body as he swept a hand over her breast, teasing the sensitive flesh through the thinness of her shirt.  

A fresh wave of heat ratcheted through her as Mulder’s mouth found her neck, nipping at the delicate flesh there until he’d reach the skin above her breasts.  She moaned, an incredible sound that nearly sent him over the edge.  

“What about the hot chocolate,” he managed between kisses.  

“Fuck the hot chocolate,” she said breathlessly.  She was a million miles away…Mulder might as well have been speaking Greek.  In fact, she didn’t know why he was talking at all. Talking wasn’t exactly what she needed right now, but she could think of a few more things he could be doing with that beautiful mouth of his.

Her hands sought his, intertwining his fingers as she pulled him to the bedroom.  It was hard to tear them away from elsewhere, actually, hard to break the contact even if that brief separation promised a sweeter reunion. She pulled her shirt over her head as she pushed him onto the bed.  

“Who said anything about hot chocolate?”

-0-0-0-


End file.
